Posts

Smoke Detectors and 3 a.m. Phone Calls

          A couple of years ago we built a room onto the back of my house. My mother, who suffers from Parkinson's Disease, needed more space to maneuver than what my 40-year-old, three-bedroom, two-bathroom bungalow allowed. She now has a spacious area with an ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) compliant bathroom. Because the construction required permits, there were several inspections throughout the building process. The final inspection, to receive the occupancy permit, included the entire house which meant we had to have a smoke detector in every room except the kitchen, according to city code. So, my contractor installed one in each bedroom, the hallway, and the living room. He removed the one from the kitchen that went off every time I fried bacon. Some of my detectors are hardwired to the electricity and some are battery operated only. The ones not hardwired have ten-year internal batteries that can't be changed. Older detectors have nine-vol...

The "Perfect" Christmas Tree

Christmas tends to be the time when I feel like I miss my father more than Doug. This would be because of the differences between Christmas in Germany as opposed to in Brazil. It was the difference between centuries old traditions handed down from generation to generation and a missionary family in the hot dry climate of northeast Brazil where Christmas was just a day off work. Pine trees were non-existent. Doug's dad would make attempts at a tree without much enthusiasm and come up with something unique. One year it was a broomstick cemented in a pot with a thick wire that started at the top as a small concentric circle and widening as it descended. Such was Christmas in Brazil. Christmas in Germany was vastly different. My father reminisced on going into the woods to find the right tree which was usually a short-needled pine. They would drag it home and set it up in the family room on Christmas Eve, never any sooner. My grandmother would decorate the tree with stars made from...

Going for Gold

  The Olympics has been in full swing for a week and my mom and I have been watching as many events as we can. The competition between countries and individuals is intense. Closeups on the athletes’ faces reveal a myriad of emotions. They can be nervous before the event, concentrated during it, with relief and smiles or frowns after. Each athlete has one goal in mind — the gold medal.  They’ve spent years training and competing. Athletes have gotten up at 5am to train before they go to school. Then they’re back to training afterward. They go to competitions and tournaments every chance they get. They suffer injuries and disappointing losses. Yet, they go on because they have their eyes on the prize. It’s what drives them. Everything is done with the end in view. Saturday, I watched the women’s 100-meter final in track and field. As the runners were announced the crowd cheered loudest for the favored Americans. The last to walk into the stadium was a young woman from St. ...

Celebrating Life

     Recently, I attended a memorial service for a long-time member of my church. I also attended the wedding of a family member. Both events took place the same day which could seem odd as it rarely happens. David left behind a legacy of faithfulness to the Lord and the Gospel. You could say he died with his boots on. Blake and Leah said their vows promising faithfulness to each other. You could say they were putting their boots on. Then, I realized we were celebrating life in both cases. I first heard about David when I was a new attendee at Grace. The congregation was fervently praying for his wife, Debbie, who was battling leukemia. She passed away shortly after. What I didn’t know at the time was David had been suffering from pancreatic cancer for several years. He had defied the odds.  I got to know David better when he became a member of the care group that meets at our house. His compassion for others was clear and he was fiercely independent. When we sta...

Thanks for the Memories

          Just a few years ago my high school, John F. Kennedy High School in Taylor Michigan, was closed -- permanently. Last year it was torn down to allow the city to build one central school for the area. I've seen pictures of the rubble and my heart hurts a little bit. A few of my classmates were able to find something in the piles of concrete and bricks to take home with them -- a little reminder of the big memories. Then yesterday I saw the announcement the college I attended, Clarks Summit University (formerly Baptist Bible College), is closing its doors. Jackson Hall with its long, cobbled hallways, worn down by years of foot traffic will gather dust. The bell tower that chimed every quarter hour and played hymns and Christmas carols will be silenced. The rotunda where the choir gathered to sing just before leaving for Spring Tour won't echo voices anymore. And the library which was housed in the monastic chapel in my day, won't amplify the whisp...

Karl Heinz on Memorial Day

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        Monday was Memorial Day. Every year, I invite to my house people with whom I have a connection from Brazil. It turned out to be the biggest group ever and figured there were about 52 people here. Half were children. We grilled, enjoyed the dishes everyone brought to share, and sat around and talked. The little ones gave the bounce house a run for its money and the balls from the pit were all in said bounce house at the end of the day. It's always great to be together. It's also a day to remember those who gave their lives for the freedoms we enjoy as citizens of this nation. I come from a multicultural family. My father was from Germany and my mother is American. They met in Germany in the early 60s when my mom was a university student in Marburg, the city where my father had been born and raised.            During World War II, both my grandfathers served in opposing armies. My American grandfather was stationed in I...

Remembering Ernie

       Yesterday, May 21st, Ernie entered the presence of the Lord -- two days before his birthday. He was a man of God who loved the Word of God and to serve God. It's hard to believe Ernie's race is finished and that his family has to continue theirs without him. He had an impact on my life in the brief time that I knew him. My first memory of Ernie is from seven years ago. I had recently moved to Winston Salem and was attending a new church. At the beginning of the service that particular Sunday morning, four men went to the platform and began to sing "All my ways, they are known to You" by City Alight. I had never heard it, but the message of the song came through in clear, four-part harmony. Ernie sang with gusto and joy.  Ernie taught Sunday School series from time to time. One quarter, my mom and I attended his class on church history. He had a depth of knowledge of the subject that would put most scholars to shame. He spent hours every week in prepar...